


Warmth of Bellflower

by gomushroom



Series: Rainy November [2]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-10-12 02:39:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/pseuds/gomushroom
Summary: Three months later, Ohno doesn’t expect to find himself sharing dinner at Matsumoto’s dry-cleaning shop





	

**Author's Note:**

> November continues to wrap me into a full Juntoshi mood—even if I’m in the middle of struggling to write other things. This is a simple continuation of Scent of Lavender, part of the original timeline from a year ago. Somehow, I keep going back to this story so here’s a bit of (last-minute-ly-written) fluff because one Ohno Satoshi is turning thirty-five today. 
> 
> Happy birthday, Captain!

Ohno is, in honesty, running out of excuses. All his suits are now hanging pristine in his closet. All his fancy shirts have already been laundered. Yet these things with Matsumoto-san are, in his opinion, moving forward. The soft lavender scent now becomes familiar treat for him at the end of the day, associated solely with Matsumoto and his closed comfortable space of shop.

Still, it takes three months, countless dry-cleaning packages before Ohno braves himself to ask Matsumoto whether he can come at night so they can just meet without him bringing more suits to be laundered, or any other excuses.

“Of course, Ohno-san, I really don’t mind you visiting next week,” Matsumoto answers his request with a smile, one that sends Ohno’s heart soaring. “It’s just that—“

Ohno frowns at the hanging sentence, partially already beating himself for thinking that this request to meet Matsumoto more often will go smooth and without a hitch.

“Don’t make that face, please.” Matsumoto’s smile becomes wider. “I was just saying that we would waste time if all we do were just meeting up here. Why don’t we dinner together or something while we’re at it?”

Ohno’s frown remains but he blinks rapidly to make sure that what he has just heard is real. Is Matsumoto asking him out for dinner? No, he is not. He just said that they should have dinner together. Meaning that Matsumoto _is_ asking him out for dinner. Okay, maybe not out, but dinner all the same. And isn’t it great? Is it great, right? Right.

“Right,” Ohno finds himself blurting out the exact same conclusion he formed in his head, staring into Matsumoto’s kind eyes and losing words once again.

Matsumoto actually chuckles at that. “Yes. Right.”

Ohno nods, lowering his head so he could form a satisfied smile, and mutters a soft, “Thank you.”

And when he thinks that he has a week to prepare for another burst of happiness, Ohno feels warm and soft touch at the back of his palm before flutters of Matsumoto fingertips graze lightly. He turns to meet Matsumoto’s smile, full blown and kind, the kind of smile he is not prepare to see because it blinds and still confuses him right now. He must look like a fool with his mouth hanging open, question of yes, what is it, on the tip of his tongue, but Matsumoto doesn’t seem to care.

“Thank _you_ ” is all Matsumoto said, but Ohno hears more than just that. Ohno sees more than just that. He hears tenderness and regard. He sees acceptance and subtle invitation.

After a while, the brief touch ends as abruptly as it started but Ohno feels promise they’ve silently made to each other and that’s enough for another start.

*

Ohno has expected a ramen delivery. He has considered bringing a bucket of fried chicken from KFC shop around the station. Or at worst, and he knows he’s prepared for the worst, he would later need to run to the nearest soba shop and buy them take away.

He surely is not expecting two stacks of bentos.

He also can see Matsumoto flushed expression when he looks up with a question in his eyes, wondering if these are for them to share, if Matsumoto has prepared these delicacy, if he is not in a dream.

“So,” Matsumoto says, still with a flush up his cheek and visibly holding his smile, “I kind of went overboard.”

“Ah. You really don’t have to buy all this. I can easily—“

“Ohno-san,” Matsumoto cuts him. “I kind of made this.”

“What?”

“I usually do this for my own lunch anyway. And since you’re visiting tonight, I thought why not cook something simple for dinner.”

The smile now is again full blown and Ohno is truly at lost at what he should say except for repeating what Matsumoto has just said. “You made these?”

“I did.”

“You did,” Ohno says before he can think of nothing but closing his eyes because it’s downright embarrassing to just repeat everything Matsumoto has just said. “You truly did.”

“I sure did.” Ohno can hear chuckles now but Matsumoto finally moves them to the next part of the night. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. So why don’t we sit down and enjoy this. I hope this will find your taste well.”

Ohno wants to say that he’ll eat anything and he is sure that whatever Matsumoto has prepared with, what he’s absolutely sure, care and consideration will taste great, but he can’t. He only smiles back and nods. They shall have dinner now, together, in a closed space of the shop and that alone is enough for Ohno.

*

Drizzle starts when Matsumoto slowly opens one of the boxes, revealing neat row of _ebi furai_ and sauté eggplants that look absolutely delicious to Ohno, and opens another one that sends Ohno’s eyelids closing in attempt to savor the pleasant whiff of, he definitely didn’t see this one coming, _tamagoyaki_.

“Oh.”

And for the first time since they met Ohno has the opportunity to see Matsumoto’s expression marred with worried and uncertainty. “What? Did you see something you don’t like? What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

“But you said ‘Oh’. That didn’t sound good.”

“It’s more like—” Ohno smiles, trying to find words because he needs to set the impression straight. He’s really touched that Matsumoto went as far to prepare their dinner, when he thought that he could easily ask to have something simpler delivered. He’s such a fool. “—I was pleasantly surprised.”

There. That comes out just right. And Ohno’s smile blooms even more when he sees Matsumoto is finally letting the matter go.

“So this is okay?”

“This is more, more, and more than okay. I can’t wait to take a bite.”

With a flourish Matsumoto produces two pair of chopsticks from his bag. “Then, why wait.”

Ohno watches with adoration and awe as Matsumoto begins slowly taking apart the arrangements. One box has half of it filled with rice and Matsumoto then elegantly arranges two large _ebi furai_ bits and two portions of the sauté eggplants on the other side.

When the man is already satisfied with his arrangements, he looks up with a grin to Ohno. “I think we can manage sharing the _tamagoyaki_ without fighting over the last bite.”

Ohno chuckles, looking down with to what now is a perfect two sets of dinner lay on the counter table. He doesn’t want to make promises but well, it looks like it’d be worth to fight for the last piece of that _tamagoyaki_. He looks up and can only say, “Everything looks delicious. I don’t know where to start.”

“Rice.”

“What?”

Matsumoto lets out a laugh this time. “Start with rice first. I think I managed to keep it warm enough.”

Hearing the sound of laughter and the sincerity in Matsumoto’s low voice, at that moment Ohno knows that he will eat cold rice, or anything else in that matter, Matsumoto prepares for him. Or at least, he needs to taste the _tamagoyaki_ first, and then he’ll have this all sealed and decided.

The rice is indeed just warm enough to hold on but Ohno finds it perfect. He takes another mouthful, holding his bento box close to his mouth as he also samples the eggplant sauté. He can taste a bit of miso, charred outer skin before the taste of sweet and soft pulpy flesh invades his palate. He know he’s making a funny face, crunching his nose and closing his eyes, but as he takes a long breath, holding the food in his full mouth, Ohno wants to smile. He wants to say that this is just perfect. He wants to say a lot of thing, since he knows Matsumoto is watching him close in front of him, since he knows that he doesn’t need to taste the _tamagoyaki_ because this alone is already perfection.

He can hear a soft “Thank you”, and when he opens his eyes he sees Matsumoto watching him with with a wide grin as his eyes twinkling with delight.

Ohno can only nods and he continues to get another mouthful of rice. As Matsumoto begins his meal, they stay in comfortable silence for a long while. In the middle of polishing off his second ebi furai, Ohno remembers that he hasn't had decent home-cooked meal in ages.

The patters of drizzle stays outside as the food and the shop keeping them warm all throughout and it feels heavenly.

When Ohno finally slows his pace, when almost three quarter of the rice in his box has gone, he takes a look of Matsumoto in the middle of scooping rice into his mouth.

Months ago, he wouldn’t have thought to be in this place at this time of day. Months ago, he was just annoyed at his sister for sending him to a new laundry shop. Months ago, he wouldn’t have dreamt of having a shared dinner with the man with sharp eyebrows, precise details, and kind eyes.

His heart then makes a decision, to stay close to Matsumoto from now on, or if Matsumoto has a different reason, he will fight his way into this man’s heart because if this is not heavenly, Ohno doesn’t know what is.

“So how’s work today?”

The question is so sudden and beyond his wildest expectation, Ohno almost chokes on his last piece of _tamagoyaki_.

“I’m sorry,” Matsumoto says, lacking the seriousness since Ohno is sure he’s barely holding his laughter but filling Ohno’s glass with more tea. “I should’ve not asked so suddenly.”

Ohno feels his eyes watery from too much coughing, his chest tight from the unanticipated question, and yet when Matsumoto smiles at him again, he finds himself charmed for the nth time.

Matsumoto waits for a while before, now with a hint of concern, he says, “Or you rather we don’t want to talk about it?”

“It’s not that,” Ohno says, holding the cough that threatens to come back again, “I’m just—“

Matsumoto nods, giving him reassurance. “Apology for being so sudden again. You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to talk about it. I was just trying to make a conversation.”

Ohno nods, weighing his option. There’s nothing special to tell anyway. His work at the accountant office is not special at all with almost nothing to write home about. But since Matsumoto’s asking—no one actually has asked that aspect specifically ever, perhaps except his mother and even then he’s not answering directly—maybe it’s time to try to talk about it.

But apparently Matsumoto takes his silence easily, without any further nudge, and moves on to another topic. “Ah, I have been wanting to let you know that by next month, I’m upping the price for handling suits.”

Ohno nods.

“That’s why I think you should stop bringing your suits here, except if they’re in dire need for dry cleaning. But you could--”

Ohno frowns at the end of the sentence and doesn’t catch anything Matsumoto says next. His thoughts are whirling with questions of possibilities. To stop bringing his suit to the store would mean that he would have no reason to visit the shop, to have this kind of quiet night together again. Or worse, he’ll be loosing his chance to ask Matsumoto out one day, casually of course—he just needs to work on his plan a bit longer, like what he’s been dreaming all along, to go to ramen shop nearby.

Nothing fancy, really.

“Ohno-san.” The soft mention of his name brings Ohno back to the shop, where he’s now sitting in front of Matsumoto-san with empty bento boxes in front of them. “It’s showing.”

“Huh? What is?”

“Your thoughts, all over your face,” Matsumoto replies, with that soft smile again. “And I don’t think you heard the last part of what I was saying.”

“Yes?”

“You often have this sudden blank look on your face, as if you’re going somewhere else with your thoughts.” Matsumoto stares at him for a while before adding, “I bet you didn’t hear what I was saying, right?”

“That I should stop bringing my suits here?”

“I didn’t say that.” Matsumoto lets out a sigh. “Well, okay, I did say that. But I didn’t mean that you should just do that. You can still visit the shop, right, Ohno-san? You just don’t need to do it because you need your clean suits to be laundered.”

Ohno feels warm flushes rising up his cheek and he needs to bite his lips because laughter is threatening to burst out. Fine, he’s busted. Now he knows that Matsumoto knows that he has been bringing clean suits—he only wear them once, trying to get them as dirty as possible before he brings them back to Matsumoto’s shop—for months.

“So you knew?”

Matsumoto rolls his eyes playfully. “Of course I did. It’s my job to know.”

“I’m sorry,” Ohno says softly.

“Don’t be,” Matsumoto says. “I am glad you did that, in a way. You keep on coming to the store and I like that.”

Ohno is certain now he’s blushing pink with both embarrassment and joy. Matsumoto likes that. Matsumoto likes that he keeps on coming to the store. Even with the lame excuse of needing dry cleaning. Matsumoto still likes that.

He chuckles and when their eyes meet again, Ohno is smiling as wide as Matsumoto. And as sudden as the question before, it is Ohno who blurts out his thought. “I like that, too. And the food.” And you, yes you, he repeats in his head. That last one will need more time before it can be spoken out loud, but Ohno is nothing but patient.

Matsumoto looks down and Ohno swears he could see flush rising up Matsumoto’s cheeks too, but he’s not entirely sure.

“This was a truly real treat. I guess it’s my turn next time,” he says, and before he can stop himself. “Ramen, how about ramen?”

"Oh,” Matsumoto says with his eyebrows raised.

He looks surprised, Ohno notes, but good surprised. So it might be okay. Still he adds, “But not tonight. I can't tonight. This was more than enough so maybe—“

"That's okay. Ramen is not going to go anywhere.” Matsumoto lets out a chuckle at Ohno's sudden outburst. “It’s a date then."

Ohno feels an unfamiliar shiver of excitement upon hearing Matsumoto emphasizes on the word ‘date’. The idea hasn’t caught up on him fully—would a date be something formal? But he only wants to ask Matsumoto out, for a ramen, which maybe doesn’t mean anything special for Matsumoto but it would mean the world to him. Maybe not too soon putting a name into this warmth—calling these meetings date, or whatever—and Ohno couldn’t be sure, he just couldn’t be sure at the moment.

“You don’t have to frown like that,” Matsumoto says with a concern written all over his face.

When their eyes meet and hold each other gaze, Ohno can see mirroring hints of uncertainty in Matsumoto’s eyes and his heart calms a bit. “I’m sorry,” he says with a small smile as a way to let Matsumoto know that his frown doesn’t necessarily mean that he has any objection, that it’s something that he unconsciously does, “but all I do is frowning like this all the time.”

“I did notice,” Matsumoto says. “Still, it’s worrying sometimes. To have your crunching face while staring at me like that.”

“Worrying?”

Matsumoto sighs with fond look, and when he rolls his eyes, Ohno realizes that this expression is probably what Matsumoto also—unconsciously or not, he just needs to stay close and find out—does all the time.

He finds himself pursuing his lips, blinking his happiness and joy. All the time sounds like a very good word at the moment. Maybe he can one day becomes part of Matsumoto’s all the time and vice versa.

*

When Ohno steps out from the shop, the drizzle is still persistently strong. It feels warm and secluded inside but outside the chilly wind of winter night is going straight to his cheeks. Wrapped on his layers of sweater and coat, he sighs as he tries to brace himself for a walk to the station.

The sky is completely dark now, droplets of water mercilessly hitting the wet alley asphalt all around him. Under the short awning of Matsumoto’s shop, Ohno sighs as he sees dim glimmers of lights around the alley, pushing his already starting to numb fingertips inside his coat pockets.

Still Ohno waits as Matsumoto locks the shop behind him, leaving only a small light lit the front of the shop.

A battered umbrella soon comes up above their heads and Ohno feels Matsumoto standing next to him, close and warm. He turns to see the man clutching a tote bag, bundled in layers of soft blankets inside, what Ohno doesn’t expect at all, a transparent vinyl knee-length raincoat.

Ohno finds himself asking the obvious. “Are you sure you’re warm enough?”

Matsumoto smiles at him. “I’ll be fine. And that question should have been directed to you. Are _you_ sure you’re warm enough?” He bumps his shoulder onto Ohno playfully and Ohno can only nod.

“Next time, can we talk about your doodles?”

“Huh?”

“I forgot that I wanted to ask you about them.”

That’s right, Ohno thinks, they were supposed to talk about his doodles but ended up having dinner quietly, without many words exchanged, simply enjoying each other presence. Was tonight a true disaster at the end? Because he forgot about their initial plan and now that the night is coming to an end, Ohno has his doubt creeping into him again.

They stand watching the rain for a while before Matsumoto speaks again, answering Ohno’s unspoken question instinctively. “It was a great night. Thank you.”

Ohno nods, staring to his wet and damp boots, wanting to reply but finding his throat tight and chest thumping with erratic heartbeats, and can only murmurs a soft, “Thank _you_.”

“You can take the umbrella. I don’t think you bring one. Can’t have you catching a cold tomorrow,” Matsumoto continues, shifting the handle of the umbrella to the front of Ohno’s face.

It is then Ohno looks up and says, “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just a short, a very short, walk for me. It is you that have to go all the way to the station.”

Ohno frowns at that. Very short walk? What Matsumoto means by that? He takes the handle of the umbrella from Matsumoto’s hold. Now that he’s responsible for sheltering them both from the rain, Ohno feels a little bit lighter. Matsumoto did say ‘next time’ so there will be a chance, or a solid excuse to be exact, for him to come back to the shop.

“You should go,” Matsumoto says, his tone soft and warm as he bumps his shoulder to Ohno’s again, “before both of us freeze to death here.”

“And you?” Ohno just wants to make sure that he’s not going to leave Matsumoto freezing himself to death when he already makes his way to the station. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to take this?”

“I only have to walk around and climb some stairs,” Matsumoto says. When Ohno only blinks in question, he elaborates with a chuckle. “I live upstairs.”

Wait a minute, upstairs as in the top floor of the shop? Ohno needs some seconds to process that information, before stating the obvious. "I didn’t know that.”

“Now you do,” Matsumoto says.

Ohno finds himself saying, “Next time, can we go up and have dinner again?”

At the sudden display of frankness from Ohno, Matsumoto turns to face him and lets out a long laugh, a warm sound that Ohno has begun to enjoy. “Maybe. Why don’t you come for another visit, Ohno-san?”

“I will,” Ohno replies, easily this time, with a satisfied smile.

They hold their gazes at each other. Right there, under the awning, with chilly wind and drizzle and right then, when they stand close and smiling to each other, Ohno decides to do what he has been wanting to do since their first meeting.

He takes a step forward, closing their slight distance, and stands in tiptoes for a while, before landing a soft peck on the corner of Matsumoto’s lips. The contact is soft, cold, yet spreading comfortable warmth into him.

He then can hear Matsumoto sucks in a surprise breath but at the next moment Ohno pulls back and sees that Matsumoto has his eyes closed and a quirk on his lips. At the sight of Matsumoto wetting his lips, Ohno closes his eyes and wills himself to turn and go.

One step at a time, he tells himself. He probably has gone into this too fast for their own good today. Matsumoto will still be in that shop, along with the comforting warmth, next time. Now that they have talked and shared comfort, they will have their own pace to explore more and more about themselves.

Those very thoughts are the ones that send Ohno turning and starting his walk back to the station with a crunched smiley face. He clutches the umbrella handle tightly. Along with splashes of rain pitter-pattering and puffs of his own shaky breath misting up his vision, his boots cutting through the wet asphalt, he paces his light steps faster, leaving Matsumoto’s home only to return again next time.


End file.
